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Doubtless he had already suffered for days recalling his indiscretion, and was now desperate to beg my forgiveness. - (Quarry of Gor, Chapter 13, Sentence #42)

Might it not be he who, for some reason, perhaps fearing to face me after his unconscionable mistreatment of me, had arranged this odd charade, even my hooding? I would show him my rage, an icy fury. He would not escape my wrath. I would visit upon him my contempt and hatred, the fearful indignation of a proud woman of Earth, whose temper was to be feared, whose scorn was to be dreaded. Doubtless he had already suffered for days recalling his indiscretion, and was now desperate to beg my forgiveness. One might even feel a little sorry for such a fellow, so miserable, so stung with remorse, so self-castigating, and self-torturing. Perhaps, I thought, I might even hint, mercifully, that, in time, say, a long time, I might relent and forgive him, after which we might consider arranging a suitable, meaningful relationship, founded on respect and equality. After all, was he not a male of Earth, another pathetic, manipulable male fool, putty in the hands of a clever woman such as I? Surely I could arrange matters to my satisfaction. - (Quarry of Gor)